Doesn't Exist
by Metajoker
Summary: How did things ended up this way? Soukun… Tell me, honestly, what really doesn’t exist for you?” A denial. Finally, it came. “Your love.” He logged off. MisaoXSoujiro
1. Prelude

_((Author's Notes: A first attempt to write a RK fic. A first attempt after a long hiatus in writing fanfiction. This is just a prelude, just to generate interest in the story. It's meant to be simple and short. It will tell me if there's a need to continue this story. So enjoy.))_

_Have you ever dreamed of being by my side?_

_Reminiscing of those bittersweet times… _

_Who would know?_

_(Loose translations of the lyrics from Biarlah Rahsia or Let It Be A Secret by Siti Nurhaliza)_

'_How did things ended up this way?'_

_Her feet pounded against the shiny, newly polished marble floors as she continued running. She could feel the impact of her feet hitting against the floor, even though she was wearing her running shoes. Her soles were beginning to hurt. Her thighs and calves were aching, screaming as they drowned in lactic acid. Yet she continued to run, tears blurring her vision. It felt like she was viewing the world through a veil of mist, a mist which she couldn't seem to remove. The overhead lights shone brightly on her as the thin sheet of perspiration covering her glistened under the glaring lights. It was being on an operating table. Flesh exposed. But now, it was more than just her skin that was exposed. Her insides, her very heart and soul too were flung out of her body for everyone to scrutinize under those blinding lights. How she felt as if she was raped of her emotions, swarms of eyes molesting every fibre of her being as bystanders continued watching her. _

'_Please… Don't leave… Don't you dare leave you stupid Tenken…' _

_Makimachi Misao continued sprinting through the sea of moving people, most giving her an odd look as they watched her run blindly through the crowd. She couldn't be bothered about anyone for now. No one, not even the world matter to her. Not the Gods. Not the blasting air-conditioners in the buildings that made her burning flesh freeze. Nothing. After all, how could anything matter when she had committed the biggest sin of the century? How can anything matter when your world came crumbling down, slowly being shredded by your own claws even without one realising it? It was a horrible, twisted feeling. She felt as if she had been tearing her hair out without knowing and finally viewing herself in a full length mirror. It was like dying, slowly suffocating, only to realise that the person who had murdered her, the one who had offered her to Death itself was no one else but herself. She had no one else to blame. Just her._

'_Just me.' _

_It wasn't fair. Of course it wasn't fair. After all, no one had a code of honour to follow in love. It wasn't like the fights or tournaments she was so used to joining. No. The rules that governed the battle of love and life were completely different. Completely abstract. Completely abstruse. Yet only fully understood in such predicaments when one finally realises that the only person that mattered the most was gone._

_Or going. _

'_Please… Sou-kun…' _

_The announcements of the flights departing only made her run even faster, adrenaline being forcefully pumped into her muscles. Strands of wild hair stuck out messily from her braids and clung to her wet skin for dear life. Her messy low braid, a trademark since elementary times, swung with every movement she made. It swayed violent from side to side, slapping her bare arms. It hurt. Yes, how it hurt so. Yet nothing hurt as much as her heart. Nothing probably hurt as much as knowing how much she had hurt him. She didn't mean to. She really thought that he was always there for her. That he was happy for her own happiness. It was nearly impossible to tell if he ever harboured any ill feelings towards anyone with that permanent smile plastered on his childish face. She truly believed in his words, in that promise he made, of being happy when she was happy. _

_How selfish. _

_Both of them were selfish. He had never considered her feelings. Perhaps he did. Maybe he knew that it would come to this, someday. That was why he kept all his feelings buried. That was why affections between them didn't exist. How selfish of him to leave her so abruptly, just like this. Even though he knew that she would care… _

_How selfish of her as well, to have been ignorant of his feelings all these years. To be ignorant of all his sacrifices. Large, warm drops of tears continued pouring out of her eyes, like a broken dam. They cascaded down her reddening cheeks, cooling her burning cheeks. It wasn't fair. Panting hard, she made a sharp turn, barely looking up to see the bright and bold 'Departure' sign. Her lungs screamed, her muscles ached, yet she continued on forward. She couldn't let him leave. Yet that simple mission to see his face, to stretch out and touch him, lock him in her embrace, seemed impossible. How could anything be possible when guilt weighed her down, sorrow hung about her like an impenetrable fog with hurt and grief acting like chains that held her back? Her plethora of insecurities came rushing back in full force, slamming into her. It was all her fault that things ended up this way. She knew it. Only at the end, when things mattered the most… Only then she finally realised that she was going to lose the very person who had truly cared for her all along. _

_To lose that smile. His annoying teasing. Those warm brown eyes. The petite yet lean frame that held her close when she was upset. Oh goodness, she could almost kill herself when realisation dawned an hour ago. When she logged on to her Msn account and saw his unusual display name. Soujiro usually showed the ridiculous looking smiling face emoticon in his display name just beside his full name but this time round, he didn't. Immediately, as her gaze fell to his name on her list, she felt something was amiss. _

'**Doesn't exist.' **

_Curiosity killed the cat more than nine times yet she just had to open a conversation window with him. _

"_What doesn't exist?" She asked, confusion and worry arising within her. She didn't even bother with the usual greetings, using those highly annoying yet adorable emoticons. No, today was… Different. Somehow. Her instincts told her that. After observing him the past week. After seeing his face when she announced to him the biggest news of the century. Yes, he smiled cheerfully, laughed and danced with her even. Yet she swore, for that split second, she saw that remarkably brief crestfallen Soujiro standing before her. She saw the anguish, the pain, that undeniable sorrow, flash in those haunting blue eyes of his. Even if it was only for that split second. _

"_A lot of things don't exist in this world, Misao-chan." _

_The reply took a full minute. It sounded normal enough. But… Even though she knew it was impossible, Misao couldn't help but to feel as if Soujiro had hesitated before sending that message. Of course, it was just an assumption. Just like how she had assumed that he was happy for her all these while. After all, how could one tell the tone, the emotions and hesitation from a flat computer screen? One could only assume. They were just words. _

_Yes, just words all along. _

_Just words. _

_For some reason, knowing that all that they had exchanged for the past week were just merely words hurt a lot. It hurt because the words did not convey the true message. The words didn't convey his feelings. It was if he had been lying to her the entire week. It was just words and merely words. They had nothing, meant nothing. _

"_Liar." She typed back the instant she saw his reply. "Sou-kun… Tell me, honestly, what really doesn't exist for you?" _

_This time, it took him five minutes before he replied. Somehow, deep down, she felt his pain, his regrets, the hesitation that held him back. Call it a female's instinct. She could just feel it. She could feel her senses tingling as she anxiously waited for his reply. 'He's busy," She told herself. _

_A denial. _

_Finally, it came. _

"_Your love." _

_He logged off. _


	2. Someone Else's

((A/N: My sincerest apologies to all those who waited so long for the next chapter. You see, I had exams. And my heart was broken by my first ever serious love. Somehow, I feel stupid now because a few months prior to that, I decided to write this story and the things I planned to happen came true somewhat. And television made psychics look so cool… Utter rubbish. So your friend here had to struggle with her own feelings while still being friends with him, now I have a friend who's ready to kill himself and my best friend is depending on me to support her as she faces some love troubles… sighs I shall stop rambling now. Thank you all for reading and special thanks to the four who reviewed my prelude.))

_I believe in the man that loved me, and you live on in my heart  
However, from here on  
I will no longer have to say goodbye_

_(Translations from Ayumi Hamasaki's Heaven.)_

**Chapter 1: Someone Else's**

_A few months ago… _

"Soujiro!!!" Misao jumped up and down, frantically waving her arms at her best friend who was still strolling far behind her. The bitter, biting cold of the past winter had been replaced by the dampness of fresh Earth, the first signs of spring. Of course the air was stifling, slightly humid as the frost began to thaw and melt away. Puddles of cold water were evaporating slowly, desperately lingering onto their last existence as liquids before vanishing from the Earth. The sidewalk was slippery, sticky with half frozen muck. It was anyone's guess how the weasel had managed to run through all these and yet, not slip and fall.

But Soujiro simply smiled and shook his head. It was better not to dwell on such negative things. After all, why let it ruin a perfect Sunday morning like this?

Inhaling deeply, letting the crisp air fill his lungs, Soujiro paused from his stroll to take a good look at his surroundings. They were walking through the park that was filled with endless Sakura trees. They were naked now, like new born child but as the sun grew stronger and warmed up the earth, they would bloom. Exploding into various shades of pink, the floral scene would be a heavenly treat for their tingling senses. The small smile on his face grew slightly. He couldn't wait for the visual treat.

"SOUJIRO!!! MOVE IT!!!"

The yell was loud enough to jostle Soujiro from his peaceful thoughts. Chuckling to himself, he turned and looked at the weasel who had her cheeks puffed out, frowning and pouting as she crossed her arms and stomped her feet. It was never good to cross the petite weasel. One could almost imagine the weasel ears sticking out and her tail lashing about furiously. She had always been one who would gladly exact revenge on whoever who crossed her path. Not even him, her best friend since elementary school, was spared. Worse of all, she made sure it was ten times worse. It may have been childish of her to do so but in that way, she was fair and just. In that way too, she was brutally honest. She was bad at hiding her feelings, even worse at lying. It made her readable, even to the little kids at the playground but it also made it easy for people to like the little weasel. They could easily relate to her and her bubbly nature never failed to cheer them up. She was the epitome of fun.

Optimistic, honest, just, adorable and boisterous.

Yet.

Weak, fragile, naïve, stubborn and defenseless.

Countless of events, big or small, pleasant or best forgotten, they allowed Soujiro to learn more about his best friend. Over the years, he had learnt so much about Misao. She was more than just the bouncy weasel with a cheerful attitude. She was also that innocent girl who was longing for somebody to hold her hand. Yet, even so, Soujiro felt that there was a lot more to learn about Misao.

When he was finally by her side, she dutifully smacked his head, resulting in the beloved Tenken to nearly lose his balance. "Ouch," He muttered, rubbing his head and at the same time, mumbling incoherent apologies to his favourite female in the world. She could be so violent sometimes. Even when she had finally turned 21, a full-fledged adult, she never seemed to be able to lose her tomboyish habits.

"Ouch?" She asked, exasperated by his lack of energy and enthusiasm in the morning. "You owe me more than just an ouch, mister! You're treating me to donuts!" She declared as she wagged a finger playfully at him though her voice permitted no dissent. Soujiro grinned weakly.

'_There goes my money…' _

Girls. Whoever who labeled them as the weaker sex obvious had no idea how they would use it to their advantage to clean their male counterpart's wallets clean. Soujiro sighed as he looked down at the petite girl who grinned back at him, anger dissipated. He couldn't help but to grin back at the girl the moment their eyes met even though his wallet was going to hurt later. But that was life. Someone else's joy was another's ache.

Her emerald orbs were filled with mirth, cheeks flushed a bright pink as she grinned broadly at him. He could feel the heat that her body generated from all that running and strangely enough, it felt cozy and warm. He took a step closer to her. With only a tiny gap between them, Soujiro could observe and admire her features more closely. Though tomboyish, Soujiro knew that if Misao dressed up, she would knock every man off his feet. Her lashes though on the thin side, were naturally long. Every time she blinked, the curved strands would kiss her cheeks. Her emerald pools were bright and huge with an exquisite shade of green. It was the green that one could only find in spring, when the first young shoots started growing. It reflected Misao's nature, forever young despite her age.

The slight perspiration dampened her warm skin and made her glossy midnight black hair stuck to her skin, like paper to glue. Smiling softly, his hand reached out and brushed her hair away, tucking it behind the ear. Her soft pink lips pursued a heart shaped pout. She hated it when someone touched her hair. Her hair was sacred; she loved it so much that she couldn't stand to cut it. While every woman's body was a shrine, to Misao, her hair was her shrine. The only time she had to chop off her tresses was when Yahiko had accidentally stuck gum in her hair. No matter how much they had tried to yank it out, it remained obstinately stuck. They were left with no other choice but to chop off her hair. Misao had cried non-stop for one whole week after that, refusing to step out of her room. To her, long hair was the epitome of beauty, it was the only visible feminine quality about her. Without it, she felt ugly and naked.

Of course, Soujiro had begged to differ but what did it matter? She never knew. He had even failed to comfort her during that week despite being her best friend.

The Tenken's fingers trembled when they brushed gently against her soft, breathing skin. The moment he broke contact, he regretted it. Now his fingers ached, skin screaming out to caress her again. He wanted so much to reach out and touch her. It was painfully unbearable.

"Sou-kun?"

"Huh?" Soujiro snapped out of his thoughts.

"Your hand," Misao motioned with her eyes at the hand that seemed to be permanently nailed to her cheek for the past minute or so. Embarrassed that he had the nerve to act out his thoughts without even realizing it, he quickly removed it and tucked it into the pocket of his coat.

"Guess I owe you another treat, huh?" Another soft chuckle to mask his shame.

"Of course!" Misao was a bit startled when he had reached out and touched her but she didn't resist his advances. It wasn't the first time he had cupped her cheeks and his skin was refreshingly cool against her warm flesh. Like iced lemonade on a hot summer's day.

The innocent girl had been blind and Soujiro was thankful for that. He was glad she didn't see the lust in his sapphire eyes. Lust, not sexually, but the strong irresistible desire to embrace her. But at the same time, he was sorely disappointed. He wished she could have known how hard his heart was beating, how fast the blood was rushing to his head, how the world seemed to be spinning in that moment.

But that was all there was.

They were just best friends.

Nothing more.

The girl spun around sharply and started walking off. Soujiro sighed inwardly. He glanced down at the hand that had the temerity to act on impulse. Previously, he had enjoyed the sensation, the warmth of her flesh, the smooth texture of her skin.

Now, it only ached.

Breaking into a short jog to catch up with Misao, he stuffed his hand back into the pocket.

It really ached.

Truly, one's pleasure was someone else's pain.

Moments later, the friends were tucking into some hot drinks and sickeningly sweet donuts, courtesy of Soujiro's wallet. Misao, of course, thoroughly enjoyed herself, stuffing her mouth full of donuts while Soujiro sipped his hot tea. Donuts were the current food fad now, having replaced Bubble tea and coffee buns a while back.

Misao playfully swung her legs as she sat on the chair, kicking Soujiro every once in a while. The popular donut chain, their usual hangout, was surprisingly quiet and empty. Soujiro had expected a huge crowd to be there when it first opened in the morning. Except for a group of giggling high school girls, pointing at him as discreetly as they could, there was no one else around. Soujiro could only shyly smile back at them when they winked at him and it made him uncomfortable. Taking another sip of his tea, he shifted his focus back to the hungry ogre before him.

"Why do you think Okina asked us to go out this morning?" Soujiro asked as he quietly stirred his tea. The old man was always up to some sort of mischief. Soujiro was particularly suspicious of him this morning, suddenly entrusting the grown up Misao in his hands and asking them to go out for the morning. It wasn't odd for the friends to go out for morning walks or for breakfast on weekends but Okina seemed particularly jittery today.

Something must be up.

Misao shrugged her shoulders as she licked her fingers clean of the chocolate sauce.

"Don't you suspect something?" Secretly, Soujiro was worried. He had been harboring a bad feeling since last night. Something was not right. It disturbed the otherwise intelligent Tenken badly. He couldn't place a finger on it. It was annoying as it was worrisome. Sighing, he knew it was futile to ask Misao anything else. Instead, he switched topic.

"Donuts are high in calories, Misao-chan."

A light warning.

"They're delicious!"

Another bite out of the sticky donut.

"High calories means higher chances of getting fat."

At the mention of the forbidden word in the world of females, Misao immediately spat out the piece of donut, sputtering before wiping her mouth clean. "Why didn't you say so earlier baka!?"

Soujiro could only laugh at her, thoroughly amused by her antics. "I thought it was common sense! Anyway," He leaned forward and reassuringly patted her on the head, "You don't have any real boobs to begin with so-"

The poor Tenken ducked a flying donut aimed straight for his face, sentence promptly cut short. But there was more to come as donuts started flying across the table, landing with a splat everywhere else but never on the skillful Tenken.

"Stay still you rotten good for nothing male! I so do have boobs!"

"If you could call them that," Soujiro grabbed a tray just in time as an unidentifiable glob flew straight for his face. It was sticky, with bits of dough in it and a mixture of green and orange. It landed and stuck itself on the shield tray instead. Soujiro didn't even want to try to identify the colourful blob. For all he knew, it could have been some donut filling that Misao had spat out.

Soujiro chuckled, still hiding behind the tray. He waited for the next donut bomb but it never came. Frowning slightly, he gingerly brought the tray down, peering over it. Misao was distracted. It was strange for her to be distracted so easily when she was in the middle of attacking a harmless prey. Curious and slightly worried, Soujiro glanced over his shoulder to follow Misao's line of vision.

His grip immediately loosened and the tray dropped unnoticed as his blue orbs grew wide with shock. His heart started beating at a godly speed, his breath caught in his throat. At that moment, Soujiro stopped breathing. His lungs screamed for air while his heart was thrashing within his ribs, yelling desperately to be released from the immense stress. Worse of all, his blue eyes ached, stinging as tears threatened to form.

The person who caused the jaw-dropping moment stood at the entrance of the donut chain. His black hair was neat and proper, in its usual sleek hairstyle. He was still wearing his trademark white coat, towering over everything in the shop. His very presence was more than enough to make every occupant in the shop to freeze. Lean yet muscular build, the sharp handsome features that adorned his face and that unmistakable icy blue eyes, Soujiro felt as if his whole world had halted.

The very man who left seven years ago, stealing the heart of his best friend along with him, the very one man who held the only special place in Misao's heart, had returned.

"Aoshi-sama…" Misao whispered, barely able to breathe herself. Although her hands were trembling now, she couldn't suppress the overwhelming joy and relief that washed over her entire being. He was back, safe and sound! He had returned to her, after so many nights of praying and wishing! The love of her life, her idol, her God, had come to bring her salvation after his abrupt departure years ago. Instantly, any heartache that she had endured over the years was healed. Letting out a cry of joy, Misao sprung up from her seat and ran towards him, arms outstretched.

Soujiro felt his heart sank. His chances of being with her were more than nil now. It was negative.

Life was fair.

Someone else's happiness was another's sorrow.


	3. Clockwork of Reverie

((A/N: I apologize again for the long update. Life hasn't been a bed of roses for endless months. But I kept receiving updates that people were adding this to their favourites, people reading this and sending reviews and private messages. Thank you all. That really brightened up my day. I thank you all for waiting so patient and giving support. Forgive me if there are still any grammar or spelling mistakes here.))

You once said, long ago while stroking my hair, "When you wake up there'll be a nice present waiting for you by your pillow."

I lay sleeping with my arms crossed around my chest, looking forward to the morning.

When I woke up, I found by my pillow a teddy bear... in place of you.

(Translations from Ayumi Hamasaki's Teddy Bear)

Chapter 2: Clockwork of Reverie

The entire walk back, Misao clung onto her knight who had unobtrusively appeared just as he had unobtrusively disappeared seven years ago. Soujiro wished that the ground would just unobtrusively crack open and swallow him whole. It was totally unfair how this hero of hers could come and go as he pleased, dropping all forms of responsibilities, expecting someone else to come and pick them up for him. The entire walk home seemed to be a haze to the poor Tenken. All he could think about, ironically, was the very person he dreaded; Aoshi. Similarly, Misao was caught in a sweet perfume of a dream that had finally come true, all that filled her mind, her soul, her heart, was him. Even her lungs were filled with his scent, that masculine odour mixed with a faint smell of particular brand of cologne she could never seem to guess.

Aoshi hadn't seemed to change, not his impeccable style, not his perfect posture and those haunting blue eyes that gazed at her in her dreams. He was still the perfect man in every way possible. But he was smiling a lot more now. Misao could see it, those perfect azure orbs shone with a light that was non-existent seven years ago. If absence truly made the heart grow fonder, then Misao was even more in love with her idol than she had ever before. Being around him somehow felt lighter. Easier. It was like a huge burden had finally rolled off his shoulders. But what did it really matter? Whatever worries, troubles or nightmares he had seven years ago irrelevant. They were gone and had returned her precious Aoshi-sama. He was still the man she fell in love with years ago. Like a reverie that never ended, it continued on even as she was awake, her arm hooked in his as she leaned on him. She had a thousand and one things to tell him, she didn't know where to start! She had been chatting non-stop, telling him how she felt, how everyone was doing (though she was pretty sure he would get to find that out soon), how relieved she was that he was safe, how much the city had changed over the years, how she still kept all the gifts he gave her... Oh, how the world was just filled with only the two of them! The perfect man, the perfect life, the perfect dream! Life was at its zenith for her. His return was so miraculous that Misao actually glanced up at the blue horizon above, trying to spot any flying pigs.

Soujiro quietly tagged along the couple, a shadow trailing silently behind its master. A clockwork that continued to move mechanically against its will. Absorbed in his own thoughts, Soujiro trudged on. This was really unexpected and unfair to him. He almost looked up to the sky, expecting pigs to fly upon the return of the mysterious Aoshi. But it seemed that the miracle of life only extended its hand to Misao and Aoshi today. Soujiro didn't spot any flying pigs, save for the piece of bacon that went flying as the greedy boy across the street tripped and dropped his hotdog.

With a worried frown, Soujiro couldn't help but to wonder if flying sausages counted as a miracle.

Was this why Okina wanted them to leave the house? Because he had expected Aoshi to return today? It seemed plausible enough. Unfortunately though, the old man's plan for Misao not to meet Aoshi first had backfired. Soujiro dared himself to lift his eyes from the asphalt ground. Staring at the back of the taller man, Soujiro found himself getting lost in his thoughts. Aoshi may have had a hard time seven years back with the loss of four close friends in a devastating accident. Soujiro himself wasn't sure of what really happened. No one wanted to speak about it for fear of causing much distress to the sole survivor, Aoshi. All he knew that Aoshi was so affected by it that he was never quite himself after that.

And he disappeared.

Like a wraith that finally saw the light, he left without a word.

Only to be back seven years later.

Bitter resentment boiled within the younger boy as he gritted his teeth. Aoshi wasn't the only one who had a hard time. But what was he to do? Aoshi returned, fair and square. It wasn't as if Soujiro had plans to propose to Misao – minus the thousand and one letters he had been writing and rewriting over and over. Alas, the only person who received the letters was the garbage collector.

Irritation at the older man finally got the better of him and Soujiro straightened himself before striding over, walking the same pace with the couple instead of lagging behind them. "Shinomori-san... I hope you don't mind me asking, but what great news have you brought for us since you've so unexpectedly returned?"

To his greatest surprise and perhaps worry, Aoshi actually gave him a soft smile. "That shall soon be made known."

"I see..."

Aoshi raised an eyebrow questioningly at the younger male when he immediately turned away, bangs shielding his eyes and that annoying smile plastered on his face once more. He had been rather worried when the boy had been walking behind them instead of being by Misao's side. It was as if a sudden bout of lethargy had taken over him, shoulders slumped in disappointment. Try as he might, Aoshi couldn't quite place a finger on the boy's odd predicament. He seemed cheerful enough when Aoshi spotted him in the donut cafe earlier.

Youngsters.

How easily they swayed, like lalang grass in the wind.

Misao however... She hadn't changed one bit. Not that swaying long braid, those sparkling emerald orbs, innocent smile and boisterous attitude. She bounced with every step she took, giving her a more youthful appearance. He couldn't help but to smile quietly. She was still that precious young girl from his past. He didn't want to remember it. He didn't want to be reminded of the times when everyone was together, more often than not, playing and teasing her. She was very precious to him but to be around her after seven years, she was also a costly price he had to pay. To think he spent years trying to get over it yet when he returned, the very sight of someone so dear to him made those bitter memories return.

However, Aoshi was stronger now. No, he would no longer crumble silently just from taking a breath of the crisp spring air. He had made up his mind that Misao embodied all the good and happy memories that they once shared together, memories that he would never allow himself to erase. Precious memories that he would remember the deceased by. The now stronger Aoshi would never allow any regrets or bitter disappointments to sully those pure memories. Never again. He had seven years to deal with it and frankly, it was more than enough. Gazing fondly at Misao, he smiled to himself as she continued to chatter away mindlessly in excitement.

_'My little seraphim…'_

The walk back to the Aoiya seemed to drag on forever. When they finally arrived at its doors, Soujiro felt both a sense of relief and dread. Though his feelings were paradoxical at first glance, it was nothing but the truth. Strangely, despite those feelings being polar opposites, they did not clash with each other. Instead, in a rare occurance Soujiro thought he would never live long enough to experience, they complimented each other. He was glad that the long agonizing walk with Misao squealing non-stop to Aoshi was over. He was glad that they finally arrived at the Aoiya so he could shove Aoshi in, force him to mechanically and hurriedly greet everyone before kicking his arse out.

But hopes were just that; a wishful dream.

He knew that everyone inside would be just as astonished at his miraculous return. No one would ever want to kick Aoshi out. At least not after berating him or clambering all over him to find out why he so suddenly left and abruptly returned. He dreaded having to spend more time watching Misao fawning over her prince charming or to stand by his side to defend him if anyone dared to release seven long years of frustration and disappointment at him. Making sure there was a smile on his face, Soujiro held back his tongue from saying anything sardonic to the couple to his right, especially to a particular male. Soujiro would be patient. Yes, he would remain tight-lipped, listen to what Aoshi had to explain first instead of letting his emotions get the better of him.

He would be the bigger person in this situation by sealing in his emotions and emptying his mind.

Like he always did.

A smiling clockwork which moved mechanically. Lost in his own silent reverie instead of having to deal with the harsh reality.

But how exactly was just keeping quiet and pretending to be happy for Misao being a bigger person? How was silence any better than lashing out furiously?

Soujiro didn't have time to search for answers. Misao had already barged into the building with Aoshi in hand, leaving him behind.

The Aoiya started off as a traditional inn when Misao's forefathers built it. But now, in this time of concrete and machines, the Aoiya had transformed into a cozy small motel with a renowned restaurant occupying its first floor for guests and walk in customers alike. Tucked away in the corner of a bustling street, the Aoiya made a tidy profit from its restaurant alone; selling savoury traditional dishes in a setting that was reminiscent of older times where the roar of steam engines would blast away noisily and filled the blue skies with a trail of grey sulphurous smoke.

The Shirobeko restaurant was void of customers since it would only open at lunch time and last into the wee hours of the nights for customers and guests with hunger pangs even after a filling dinner.

Okina sat on a stool behind the counter, old firm hands gloved by a plethora of visible throbbing veins as he skimmed today's newspaper. Though his eyes were skimming through the words and he flipped through the pages, his mind was a bedlam with scattered, struggling thoughts. He had received a call from a certain someone a couple of days ago, stating his desire to return. Okina wasn't sure what to expect from this wraith. Nor could he predict the reactions of those who felt abandoned by this man. So being the oldest in authority, he had ordered Aoshi to come straight to the Aoiya early in the morning when the staff would be busy preparing for the orders for today. They would have a private talk where Okina planned to give him a piece of his mind before discussing with Aoshi how they would very gently break the news of his return.

He wasn't really concerned about Okon, Omasu, Shiro or Kuro. They could take care of themselves. No, his deepest concern was for his fragile angel; Misao. He wasn't sure how she would react to the appearance of Aoshi and it was for the best to shelter her from the sudden shock and keep it a secret from her at least for the time being.

"Okina! Are you jacking off again to another porn magazine at the counter?! You know you're suppose to make sure we have enough change in cash register!" Okon's shrill voice pierced through the kitchen walls and filled the entire restaurant. For a beautiful young lady, she had a rather loud ringing voice that caused shivers to run down the old man's spine whenever she raised her voice to berate him. Before he could reply with his own witty remark about how he would only really be jacking off to her picture, he heard fast paced, rushing footsteps approaching the counter. Grunting, he announced, "Sorry, we're not opened till –"

Like curtains drawing open to the start of a play, he lowered his newspapers to unveil the identities of the ignorant customers who had dared to intrude into the restaurant.

Like the beginning of a play, a hushed silence fell upon the audience. Okina could only stare at the three who stood before him.

It would seem that Soujiro was not the only one who had his hopes dashed today.


End file.
